Moments
by Vixen in Violet
Summary: Five moments in time, five kisses, five pairings.
1. Bond

Five drabbles that all involve some kind of kiss. Some may be tied in with canon (what officially happened in the show) and some not. It should also be noted that I've only seen up to season seven, so, as I said, they might not be canon.

Anyway, even if some pairings are not your favorite (in fact, I only have two true favorites, so I challenged myself here), these are moments that I have envisioned happening nonetheless. Now, please enjoy. :)

* * *

**Bond**

She'd often thought that time spent in solitude, which was so hard to come by and always seemed so desirable from the outside, was the very remedy for releasing herself from the drama in her life. A life not unlike a tumultuous sea in which the sudden gusts of wind blew her this way and that, trying to stay afloat, bobbing up and down, up and down...

A tear escaped down her cheek as the emotions she'd felt much earlier – had it been a week already? – crept into her consciousness yet again. Elation, anxiety, shock, and finally grief.

Sitting in front of the apartment, watching a blur of seemingly carefree people passing by, laughing, running, shouting, Kelly felt the all-too-familiar twinge of her heart. She thought of her mother. And hated her a bit.

How, she thought, could anyone deny the birth of a child? Whose right, other than that of the life growing inside of its mother, was it to simply end a lifetime of joys, pains, accomplishments, and love before it had even begun? Seven days ago, she was going to become the mother of Brandon's son or daughter. Six days ago, they told her she would no longer be that mother, and may never be again. She knew that she was thinking irrationally, but God, life was cruel.

Another tear formed and soon the cheery passers-by morphed into hazy streaks of color, flitting by in their separate world.

Suddenly, a particularly large blur obscured her view and she wiped her eyes.

"For a second there, I was afraid you weren't gonna notice me."

"Hey," she said softly, forcing a small smile at the usual boyish charm.

"I, uh..." Brandon unconsciously put a hand behind his neck, trying to think of an excuse for showing up unexpectedly. "I just thought I'd stop by to..."

"To see how I was doing?" Kelly offered.

"Well, now that you mention it." He gave a small grin.

The silence that followed was more than enough of a hint as to how she was feeling.

Brandon sat at the end of Kelly's beach chair and searched her glistening eyes.

Kelly was well aware of the redness around her eyes and the continuous sounds of her sniffling, but she couldn't have cared less. Brandon wasn't one of those guys who would offer an awkward pat on the back or try to lighten the mood simply with a cheesy joke because he felt uncomfortable.

"We almost had a child." Her whisper was nearly inaudible. That mantra had played like a broken record over and over in her mind. Over and over and over...

She couldn't tell if he already knew what she was thinking. It _had_ been a week, after all. Yet, here she was, still lamenting the same song.

"For a moment," she continued, trying to wipe away the cascading teardrops, "I really believed... that it would all happen, you know? That it was real." She knew she had told all of this to Brandon before. She didn't care.

Slowly, Brandon raised his fingers to her smooth, still face and began wiping away the tears with his thumb. "It _was_ real, Kel. That's a moment that... that we'll _always_ have. One I wouldn't change for anything... or anyone else."

His voice was reassuring, unwavering. Yes. A good moment. A good memory. She grappled at her messy thoughts and tried to piece them back together. She wanted to see things differently.

Without awkwardness or uncertainty in his movements, Brandon leaned forward and gently, ever so gently, kissed away the few droplets still embracing her skin.

Closing her eyes, Kelly allowed her mind to drift, to float like the people passing by.

They had almost had a child. That knowledge would never leave her. But instead of inciting that harrowing pain, she could at least breathe more easily, if only to keep herself from choking on her own tears, knowing that there was at least one person who would give her the whole world just so she could see happiness once again.

FIN


	2. Home

**Home**

"Honey, will you be home for dinner?"

Jim was halfway out the front door when he heard his wife's voice. He could practically feel her anticipation boring into him.

"Sorry, sweetie." He looked back at her. "I owe Bob a favor so I'll probably be crunching the numbers till morning." On cue, her face fell, but she said nothing. He lowered his eyes and mumbled a "See you later." before closing the door behind him.

* * *

Jim pushed another report into the small pile on one side of his crowded desk and glanced at the opposite stack that looked positively monstrous in comparison. That was the last time he asked that man for any favors. His mind wandered to what he would be missing at home. Again.

He glanced distastefully at the boxes of unopened Chinese takeout situated in their usual place on his desk corner. Third day in a row.

Here he was, Friday night, pushing papers for hours while his wife was preparing delicious home cooking for which only she could be accredited, the kids were out for the evening, and all his coworkers had already left.

With one final glance, no, glare, at the sheer dreariness of his surroundings, he stood and sent his chair rolling backwards.

"To hell with it," he muttered.

* * *

Clasping the mug of hot cocoa with both hands, Cindy sat at the dining room table, staring at the swirling brown liquid. It was fall, which was usually the time to start warming oneself up with such things, but, of course, in the middle of sunny L.A., that usually wasn't the case. It was just easier to pretend it was.

The doorbell chimed. Cindy looked up in surprise and quickly glanced at the clock. It was past ten. She felt a slight shiver, but went to the door nevertheless. Who would possibly come knocking at this hour? More importantly, why when she was alone?

She opened the door cautiously and was met with a colorful display of flowers, which covered the face behind them.

"Jim!" she exclaimed, recognizing the suit at once.

Jim peeked his head around and smiled. "I'm home."

Cindy laughed, a tinkling sound of joy and relief. To think she had been afraid of her own husband!

"They're beautiful." She took the bouquet and smelled the flora appreciatively.

"Oh, and here." Jim procured a simple white box of her favorite chocolates. "I know it's not much and it's really late and, heck, it's so conventional that I'm embarrassed to even do it, but-"

"Honey," Cindy interrupted softly, smiling at her husband. "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too." He stepped inside.

"What about Bob?" Cindy asked, walking into kitchen.

"What _about_ Bob?" He grinned.

Cindy laughed again and opened the fridge after fetching a vase for the flowers. "Did you eat? Because I can warm up some leftovers from dinner if you want-" She stopped when she felt a pair of arms encircling her waist. "Jim?" she smiled.

"We don't need to eat right now," he murmured into her hair, sending a wave of warmth down her spine.

She closed the fridge and turned around. "Oh? And what do you suggest we do in the meantime? I mean, now that we have so much of it." She raised an eyebrow suggestively.

He closed the gap between them with his lips and felt a kind of elation rushing through him that he hadn't felt in ages.

When they broke apart, he grinned once more. "I can think of a few things."

FIN


	3. Destiny

**Destiny**

Looking through the delicate veil at her reflection in the full-length mirror, Brenda willed herself not to cry. From joy, of course. A deep breath. She waited for the part when she would wake up, but, thank the heavens, it never came.

The beautiful ivory silks wrapped around her figure perfectly, only spreading slightly at the hem, and flowed gracefully with her movements. It was one of those things she'd dreamed of: looking absolutely fabulous when she married Dylan McKay.

She thought of how dashing he'd be in his tux. How on earth was she supposed to keep her hands to herself until after the wedding?

"I do." She smiled to herself as she pictured every detail of tomorrow's ceremony. Neither one would be paying much attention to the priest's words while they captivated one another in the presence of everyone they knew. _Brenda Walsh, do you take Dylan McKay to be your lawfully wedded husband?_ "I do," she repeated.

She turned this way and that, once again admiring the view at every angle. How she still couldn't believe her luck! When he had come looking for her in London, she knew it was more than friendship. After that, everything seemed to fall into place, as if their names were written in the very stars. As if the wedding wasn't enough, Brenda had never imagined that Kelly would want anything to do with her again. Yet, here they were, years later, laughing about old times, so many smiles, so much happiness surrounding this magnificent event.

She had to fight to hold back the tears once more. Could there have been a better ending?

Her eyes shot to the bedroom door as she heard it click open.

"Dylan! Don't come in! I'm wearing my dress!" Brenda yelped as a nice head of hair appeared from behind the door.

"Brenda..." Dylan breathed, absorbing the sight of his fiancée before him. "You look... gorgeous."

She couldn't help but smile. "Dylan, it's supposed to be bad luck for you to see me dressed up before tomorrow."

"I think I'll take that chance." He grinned and came up behind her, slowly wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Mm... I'm glad." She gazed at their reflection. "We're getting married," she mused again.

"That we are," he replied softly.

Brenda turned in his arms to face him, wrapping her own arms around his neck. Some minutes passed in a comfortable silence.

"Did I already tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" Dylan cocked his head and began to sway her slightly, side to side.

"I don't mind hearing it again."

At the same moment, they took each other's lips with their own, locked in a tight embrace. Strong. Sturdy. Sure.

Brenda closed her eyes, deepening the kiss. Now, anything was truly possible. This wasn't just a happy ending, like she'd thought. It was a new beginning – for everyone.

FIN


	4. Respect

**Respect**

"See you later, Donna." Kelly departed from the convertible and waited for her companion to do the same.

"Bye, Donna. Bye, David." Brenda smiled at her two friends in the front seats as she followed after Kelly. "See you at school!" the brunette called over her shoulder as she walked up Kelly's driveway.

"Well, at least one of them noticed me," David muttered to himself, feeling the cold night air bite his face as they returned to the roadway.

Donna glanced at the sixteen-year-old boy in her passenger seat before returning her attention to the road. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," he said shortly.

She did.

"It's like I'm invisible to her. She's such an iceberg," he continued, frustrated.

"David, do you want to talk about something else?" She tried focusing on the traffic ahead, but her voice wavered a little.

David looked at the blond, about to snap at her for trying to change the subject, but stopped when he saw what was written on her face. Pain. Quickly, he glanced at their surroundings.

"Take the next left," he instructed, earning a bewildered look from Donna.

"But that's not how to get to your house."

"Trust me," he simply stated.

Not having the faintest idea of what she was doing, Donna turned at his direction.

After about five minutes of passing unfamiliar shops and avenues that could hardly be made out in the dark of the evening, Donna was alarmed to find herself on a completely unlit road, trees encroaching their sides as if they were losing themselves in a forest. Perhaps they were. But in the middle of L.A.?

"David..." she spoke up.

"Don't worry, Donna, just stay on the path."

Her heart pounded, but she trusted him. Soon the road began to slant upwards.

"So... any more commentary by Kelly Taylor on us being a couple?" he asked after some more silence.

"Why do you ask?" Donna's tone betrayed what she was really thinking: _Did you have to bring that up again?_

"I'm just curious."

"No," was her only reply.

"Donna..."

She sighed. "Well... she might've said one thing... but you know her. She doesn't really mean these things. Are we almost there?"

"What'd she say?" He sounded genuinely interested.

Donna hesitated, not wanting to think ill of her best friend. "She... kind of brushed off our relationship by calling it 'puppy love.'" Donna paused, eyes glued to the dark road. "I don't think she takes us seriously, David. I don't even think that Brenda does either. Maybe no one does."

David wanted to say something like "What? That's crazy." but the words never came out.

Finally, the road began to level and some speckles of light could be seen in the distance. Donna gasped when the towering trees pulled back and the millions of lights of Los Angeles glittered around them.

"Wow," she breathed. "I had no idea this was here."

"Yeah, not many people do." David held a smile of admiration and took in the view.

"But why bring me here?" Donna turned her gaze to the boy next to her.

The lights illuminated the smile on his face as he leaned in, lightly took hold of her chin, and pressed his lips to hers. It was a sweet sensation, not hungry or desperate, that left them tingling in their contentment.

She reluctantly pulled back a little and stared at him intently. "Why would you do all of this for me?"

"Because, Donna, I take you seriously."

FIN


	5. Truth

My humble contribution to you Brandon and Andrea shippers, because these two just don't get enough love. I just had to make this drabble a little more special. Thank you so much for reading!

* * *

**Truth**

"MOM!" A young girl sprinted through the bustling hallways of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center.

Heads turned as a grown man quickly followed after the bundle of energy, calling her name.

"Hannah!" Brandon tried to get the little girl's attention, but failed to do so.

The eight-year-old dashed around a corner and disappeared, much to Brandon's dismay.

"Hannah!" he repeated, this time without much effort.

Several meters away, a pediatrician noticed a small child rushing straight for her.

"Hannah Zuckerman-Vasquez!" she scolded as her daughter skidded to a halt in front of her. "How many times have I told you not to cause a commotion in the hospital?" She frowned. "Someone could have a heart attack," she added dryly.

"Sorry," Hannah replied, out of breath.

"Andrea, I'm sorry. She sort of just took off," Brandon said sheepishly.

Andrea shot a disapproving glance at her daughter and set down the charts she was carrying.

"Brandon, I don't get off for another two hours. Was there some sort of emergency?"

"Tell her! Tell her!" Hannah exclaimed, looking excitedly at Brandon.

Andrea raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I might have gotten three tickets for a week-long cruise in the Caribbean." He grinned.

Her mouth dropped. "What? How did you manage that? And why?"

"All I can say is that it pays to be employee of the year. As for why..."

"_What?_ You never told me that! Congratulations!" She smiled. "That's amazing, really, Brandon."

"Mom!" Hannah interjected. "Cruise! Caribbean! Swimming!" She was practically bouncing up and down.

"I heard, honey." Her mother beamed.

* * *

Andrea rested her neck against the edge of the hot tub, hair tied up, allowing the heat to wash over her in the nip of the night air. Thankfully, most of the other party goers had either retired to the lower deck or to their rooms.

"Ah, and why did I expect to find you here?" Brandon's voice caused her to open her eyes.

Andrea simply smiled and rested her gaze on the stars.

"Hannah's asleep. Went out like a light," Brandon said as he slipped off his shirt and stepped in to join her.

"Thanks, Brandon," she said as he settled down beside her.

"No problem."

"I mean, thank you for everything you've done for us. I'm not sure I would have pulled through all those double shifts this past year without your help." She turned to look at him.

He held her gaze, warmth filling him. "Anytime."

She turned back. "You know, ever since Jesse and I separated, I've had this feeling of guilt, as if I'm keeping Hannah from having the family that she really deserves. Just because I... Jesse and I couldn't make it work, she shouldn't have to be punished."

Brandon watched as her face fell slightly. "She seems pretty happy to me," he said gently, slowly moving closer. "I enjoy spending time with her."

Andrea smiled to herself. "You are probably the only guy who hasn't made up some excuse just so you won't have to deal with her anymore."

"I could stick around if you want."

This got Andrea's attention. She looked at him.

"What are you saying? You would _want_ to keep spending time with her?"

"And you. I like spending time with you." He didn't blink.

Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

Her eyes flicked to his lips as she noticed him leaning closer. Slowly. Patiently.

The mind inside her said it was the wrong thing to do. But listening to her head wasn't what brought Hannah, the joy of her life, around in the first place. Without realizing it, she found herself leaning towards him as well.

Their lips met, tentatively at first, but more powerfully as they each released a longing of which neither had been fully aware until now.

Brandon reached a hand around her waist and cradled the back of her neck with the other, pulling her closer. Andrea placed her hands on his chest and felt white-hot sensations running freely through every vein in her body, as if something there had lain dormant for who knew how long. The swirling hot water around them only intensified the heat.

Finally, they broke apart, if only to catch their breath.

Andrea wanted to speak, to acknowledge what they'd just done, but decided at last to let the words be spoken with their eyes. As she rested her head against Brandon's shoulder and felt his lips brush over her hair, she allowed her mind to be carried, for once, by the endless, intoxicating currents in which her very life and passion were now submerged.

FIN


End file.
